Hot Blooded
by MintTeaAddict
Summary: While dealing with the post-Bradley reconstruction of Ishval, Roy Mustang gets some surprising news. Apparently, he is getting married and Riza Hawkeye is not happy about it. As everyone gathers for the wedding, new conflicts with the rebuilding of Ishval come to light, leading Mustang and his allies to uncover an extremest group that are determined to see Mustang's downfall.
1. It's a Long Way to the Top

Colonel Roy Mustang was drunk—intentionally, dismally drunk. He sat facing away from the door of his small office, set up in the temporary military headquarters is Ishval, slumped in his chair. A bottle of the best Xingese whisky money can buy was in his hand and he was downing it like it was water. He loosened his tie, suddenly feeling that it was just a bit too stuffy in here, even without his jacket on, which was unceremoniously thrown in the corner. With his free hand, he rubbed his eyes slowly, trying to stifle his oncoming headache. This was the scene that greeted Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye when she entered his office. She wiped the sweat from her brow. It was a hot day outside, but it felt that the seasons were about to change and the road to winter finally lay before them. Hawkeye sighed as she walked up to her superior, taking in the smell of whisky, mixed with the combination of gunpowder and cloves that Mustang always seemed to smell like. The last few weeks had proven to be hard work for him—for all of them—with the move to Ishval and the process of slowly helping the Ishvalan people resettled in their destroyed lands. She had thought that Roy was handling the pressure quite well. _Apparently not,_ she thought.

She cleared her throat and spoke with the firm voice she used with him to mask her worry, "Sir, you called for me?"

He swung around in his chair, overswinging just a bit so that he had to correct himself. He had that look on his face; she had seen it many times before, like he was drinking to forget. Concerned, Hawkeye moved quickly towards him, "Sir, are you alri-"

She was stopped suddenly by his finger on her lips. Somehow through his drunken stupor, he had stood up, swaying slightly, and was quite close to her. His gloved finger remained on her lips and his eyes seemed to linger there for a moment before he let out a "Shhhh" noise. When he was satisfied that she would let him talk, he removed his finger slowly and continued. Riza saw that her lipstick, although light, had left a bit of a stain on his iridescently white gloves.

"Apparently Riza," he paused, smirking a bit, but with sadness in his eyes. "I am to be congratulated."

She was surprised to hear her first name. He had not used it since… _Since the conversation, _she thought. A bitter taste entered her mouth, but she ignored it.

Knowing it was the best way to get to the bottom of what was going on with him, she humoured him, "Congratulations, sir."

He gave her a look as though he were trying to gauge her expression and simultaneously see something a mile away. Hawkeye, feeling uncomfortable with both the situation and the closeness quickly followed up, "And what am I congratulating you on, Colonel?"

"Apparently..." He swayed drunkenly, taking a hefty swig out of the bottle in his hand, "I'm getting married in three weeks."

**A/N:** This is just a little preview I wanted to upload. More to come! Reviews welcome!


	2. Coming Undone

**A/N: **Yea, I don't own any of this stuff.

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Lieutenant Hawkeye did not remember going back to her living quarters. She did not remember falling in her bed in a haze of shock and anger. As she lay there, the conversation from earlier today repeated in her head.

"_I'm getting married in three weeks." _

_His face was stern, almost too composed for the amount of alcohol he had had, like he was trying to gauge her reaction. _

"_Roy…" She tried to compose a thought, any thought. She reached a hand out to him, more to steady herself rather than comfort him. "How can this be?"_

_He gently grabbed her hand off of his shoulder, and then dropped it, allowing it to fall to her side. "Duty calls, Hawkeye." He stated in a flat tone, coldness returning to his eyes. She could tell he had glimpsed how she felt, how she really felt, and was met with icy coldness. He sat down in his chair, turning away from her. Once again massaging his eyes, he whispered, "You are dismissed, Lieutenant." _

Tears flooded Riza's eyes. Soon, her sadness would turn into strength, but for now, she needed to mourn. Her grief and guilt washed upon her in waves. _That's what you get Riza, for possibly thinking that your sins had been repaid and you deserved happiness._ _Without him you have no one. How could you think it could be you? You are damaged goods. You will always be his second in command, never his equal._

Feeling her depression swirl around her, she wiped her eyes and stood up. _Best stay busy. _She sighed, repeating a thought that had become her mantra over the last few years, "Be grateful. Be grateful that he is alive, even if not yours. Be grateful that he loves his country, even if he doesn't love you." Biting her lower lip to keep from crying, she re-holstered her gun, which in her dreamlike state she had placed on her nightstand out of habit. Taking a deep breath, she headed back outside into the heat of the Ishvalan desert.

She made her way out to the shooting range. It was a makeshift range without a proper distance gauge and limited variety of guns, but it would help for now. Checking out ammunition from the officer on duty, Hawkeye fired her first magazine. The shots were all perfectly precise; every single one a headshot. There was a whistle behind her.

"Having a rough day, Leiutenant?" There was a drawl from behind her. She immediately recognized the voice, having hunted the man before.

Reloading her magazine and not turning around she responded, "Scar, or whatever you are going by these days, it's nice to see you too."

"Ah yes, the name thing. Why do such things unnerve you people? A name is a gift from God and only needs to be cherished by Him. When He tells me my name, I will tell you, but for now, Scar or Ishvalen will do." He walked up next to her. Riza had seen him around the encampment in the last week. He seemed to have recovered from his injuries and was friendlier than ever, which still was not that friendly. Not that Riza minded. Sometimes pleasantries could just be tiring.

She sighed, "And yes, if you must know, I've had a rough day."

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Roy sat brooding in his office. Brooding was familiar and for now, familiar was what he needed. The call from Grumman had been unexpected. Mustang and his crew, along with Miles, Scar, and a handful of military persona had been assigned to help resettle the Ishvalan people back into their lands. Miles and Scar were to act as cultural liaisons to the High Priest of Ishval, who was supposed to arrive tomorrow. He remembered the peace he had before the call. But that was gone now. He had made the decision to put the duty he owed his country before the duty he owned himself, or at least, that is how he justified it. _I wanted to become a man she would be proud to have as hers, and now, to become that man, I must lose her forever._ Roy rubbed his eyes again. _If only alchemy could be used to transmute headaches into something more pleasant, like Mai Tais._

Grumman had always been an odd man and not above playing with Roy's emotions, but this was a new direction he was taking on the matter. Roy remembered listening with curiosity as Grumman explained that he had been in correspondence with the High Priest of Ishval. Apparently, in times of peace treaties between clans, the Ishvalans celebrated with an act to bond the two clans—marriage. Hoping that the union and subsequent children would represent a new era of peace, this tradition was held as sacred to the Ishvalan people. As this was explained to him, Mustang felt a certain sense of dread begin to creep over him.

"_And of course, I'm much too old to get married, and you remain to be single, so I thought you were the perfect candidate. Plus, Mustang, a political move like this will basically skyrocket you up the military ladder. You will be leading this country in no time, well over my dead body, of course! The High Priest will introduce you to his daughter tomorrow and the wedding will be in three weeks. That's an order, Colonel. I'll see you then!" _

Roy remembered just staring at the phone in shock as Grumman hung up, obviously under some delusion that he would be okay with this. If he denied the wedding he would basically be both insulting the Ishvalan people and kissing his political career goodbye in one move. But if he accepted… _No, mustn't think of that. _He made up his mind that this was the right way. Better to sacrifice his heart in order to better serve his country. _This is the right decision, isn't it? She'll be happier with someone else anyway. _It was with this thought that Roy opened his drawer, pulled out the whisky he had been saving for a special occasion, realizing that a special occasion did not necessarily mean a happy occasion, and begun to try to find the answers at the bottom of the bottle.

After his conversation with Riza, he put up the bottle again. The worst was over with. The pain had already been dealt and now she could begin to move on. He truly believed he was doing her a favour. He did not know how long he was staring out the window, chin resting on intertwined fingers twitching to burn something, but when he finally snapped out of his reverie, he found himself quite sober. With a large sigh, he picked up his office phone and dialled.

"Ah, yes Major Armstrong?" Their initial conversation was brief. As soon as Mustang explained the situation there was a loud ripping sound followed by Armstrong screaming, "OF COURSE I WILL TAKE CARE OF THE DETAILS! I WILL USE THE WEDDING PLANNING METHODS PASSED DOWN THROUGH MY FAMILY FOR GENERATIONS!" _Well, that's settled,_ Roy thought thirty minutes later as he hung up the phone. Apparently, Major Armstrong was training for this day since childhood, or so it seemed.

The rest of the day was filled with more phone calls, each one more shocked than the last. Quite a few people incorrectly assumed the identity of the bride, sending painful pangs of guilt through Roy as he had to correct them. Most of those he called were not able to come, but the important people in his life would be there and he would need all the support he could get in the coming weeks. Finally, there was one last phone call to make.

"Hello, Havoc? You and the men need to make your way out here… No, not work. I need you to plan a bachelor party." He held the phone away from his ear as the expected pause of shock was followed by laughter. He heard Breda call something from the background. "It's a long story. I'll explain when you all get here. Bring whisky. And yes, that's an order."

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A/N: Will we finally meet this mystery woman? Will Roy like her? Is Riza going to shoot her? More later this week! Please Read/Review!


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